Instead of writing something dazzling and new, I thought I would dig up a little bit of gold from the past and share it with you today.
Years ago, I sat down on a ratty old couch in my parents house. It was another dark lonely Michigan winter night. The winds were probably whipping around, blowing snow about and making the roads icy. In the dingy warmth of my room, I grabbed a pencil and a notebook and began writing. This little paragraph was the result. In the next few days, it would be published on my original blog, and eventually, it would become part of my first book.
This is the first time I recall really employing something similar to my current style of writing. Before this story, I don’t remember bombarding the reader’s senses with images, smells and sensation. Looking back, this was more than just a nifty tale that I could post on my blog, it was instrumental in helping me develop my writing style.
The brilliant blue sky glowed brightly above the wide meadow. The cloudless blue sky was a rare kind of blue, a perfect blue. A gentle wind slowly blew across the knee high white and yellow flowers. The petals of the flowers swayed gracefully in the soft wind. A blue bird’s peaceful song rang out throughout the meadow. A man and woman slowly walked across the slowly swaying grass. The two were walking close together and holding hands. The woman’s black hair moved leisurely in the sweet warm breeze. Ahead of the couple a hill stood with an Oak tree setting on its crest. The couple reached the hilltop as the sun sank behind the horizon. Its golden silhouette shone brightly behind the two. They slowly turned toward each other. Their eyes met. His sharp brown eyes filled with respect and understanding starring deeply into her dark blue, kind eyes. They moved forward, their lips touched as the sun was dipping below the horizon. As they stood there blew the purple streaked sky their fading shadows melted together, just as they were. Together forever.
*Originally printed in From the Heart